


Hold Me Close

by this_kills_the_man



Series: infidget: its big gay time [2]
Category: Sonic the Hedgehog (Video Games), Sonic the Hedgehog - All Media Types
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Sonic Forces Speculation, The Phantom Ruby (Sonic Mania), Tumblr Prompt, enjoy, hello i rise from the dead to bring you More Of This, this also includes:
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-09
Updated: 2017-10-09
Packaged: 2019-01-15 04:10:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12313506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/this_kills_the_man/pseuds/this_kills_the_man
Summary: When Gadget confronts Infinite one night, he discovers something imporant: Infinite remembers him. Sort of.(tumblr prompt that got Kind Of Long)





	Hold Me Close

**Author's Note:**

> tiniest-jo asked:  
> (For Gadget/ Infinite prompts) Infinite being terrified of what he's become and pulling Gadget closer and begging him not to leave, and Gadget being kinda scared but still letting Infinite hold him, and reassuring the latter that they'll get through this together. Head pats ensue.  
>   
> i wrote over 1000 words _whoops_

Gadget wondered. From the moment he put two and two together—the moment he reconciled the date of his friend’s disappearance and the date a mysterious entity, Infinite, started wreaking havoc on the world—from that moment on, he wondered about one thing and one thing only: would he remember?

And, well, he did, and he does. Sort of.

Gadget doesn’t know the extent, but he does know that there’s _some_ recognition behind that mask, because it’s enough to freeze Infinite solid the moment their eyes meet.

It should’ve been easy. He’s stock still, a perfect target, and for Gadget this means he could end the war right here, in the crumbling, desolate remains of some unnamed city, moon cresting the sky and firelight carving out all the slopes and angles of Infinite’s mask. The weapon, the Wispon, is in his hand, locked and loaded, and all he needs to do, the only thing in the way, is to raise his arm, look through the crosshair, aim, and shoot. It’s all he needs to do. No one even knows he’s here. He can fire at will. No need for orders.

But, god, the way Infinite looks at him. It’s like he’s looking at a ghost.

There’s a moment, a breath, where they look at each other, just _look_ , and then Gadget screws up: he blinks.

He blinks, and Infinite is right in front of him.

 “You,” Infinite says. Everything he can say, could say, wants to say, and that’s all he can muster, like the one word, _you_ , conveys every possible question the known universe could cradle in its cosmic hands.

Gadget doesn’t know what to make of this, and the sentiment continues as Infinite closes the distance further, brings them together, wraps his arms around Gadget’s torso and buries his face in the crook of his neck and he’s close so close they haven’t been this close in so long and oh god is he crying?

“W-what,” he continues, and yeah, he’s not crying, but the strange warbles and static that rip his voice apart magnify until Gadget can barely make out words. “What’s happening to me? What’s happening? I don’t. What’s? H-happening?”

Gadget wants to know just as badly as Infinite, given that his mortal enemy for the past, what, months? His mortal enemy is clinging to him like his life depends on it, and the emotions inside of Gadget stir up and blend together into soup, no up, down, left or right to them, unidentifiable and burning through his stomach and spilling out with his guts and god this is worse than the night he disappeared, it has to be, his closest companion is here and he can feel the breath in his chest and the warmth in his hands and as much as he wants to cling, cling the way Infinite is clinging back, the small, rational part of his brain stabs through his heart with the thought of _this is a trap this is a trap stop it he’s going to attack just_ do _something for the love of god._

Even half a year ago, when Eggman was nothing more than a face on a television and Sonic a name that he sent his tongue into loop-de-loops, the situation would have been different and the sickness in his stomach gone, because half a year ago this was a friend, maybe more than a friend, and his confusion and anger and sadness would be shared, empathized with, quelled with soothing words and gentle touch.

Now, he’s a foe, someone who brought daggers to Gadget’s neck and venom to his words, and this act of intimacy tears Gadget apart, piece by piece, until he’s nothing more than scraps, because it’s too cruel for Infinite to act like this after all the war Gadget went through, after all the death and dying and despair he had to see, all that he went through because of him.

Infinite must know he thinks this, must know the cruelty of it all, because something like a dry chuckle wracks his body, and it’s the most miserable sound Gadget’s ever heard. “This is pointless,” he says, and that, too, is a miserable sound. “You’re stiff as a board.”

Gadget feels the gem for the first time, pressed between them and cold to the touch, and now he can’t ignore it.

“Is this what we are now?” The hands on Gadget’s back press him closer, face burying deeper into his neck, hiding, like the world around them is just too much, like Gadget is the lone respite from a harsh sun. “Strangers? Am I that far gone?”

Gadget knows he should say something, but his mind tumbles and trips over his tongue and the words that spill out make his blood run cold: “You tried to kill me.”

He’s reeling already. _Not that! No! What the heck brain?!_

“I did,” Infinite says. “Twice.”

He can’t stop. “I think, like, three times.”

“Four?”

“Five.”

“How incriminating.” For dry words, they sure do drip with something. Contempt? Self-directed, whatever it is. Derisive.

“Stop it.”

 _“No,”_ Infinite snaps. “I’m a monster.”

“And I’m a biochemist.”

“Well, you have a degree.”

 _Crap, he remembers that, too._ “T-that’s not the point.”

“And what is?”

“The point is, this isn’t you, so, _by definition_ ,” and Gadget accents this with arms that finally, _finally_ , reach up and warp around Infinite, over his shoulders and around his neck, bringing him that impossible amount closer, “You’re not a monster.”

A pause. “I literally killed people.”

_“Well okay now you’re really missing the point.”_

“That I killed people?”

**_“Dude.”_ **

“How do you justify that? Really, I’m dead serious right now. You’re justifying literal murder with that one statement.”

The gem between them flashes colder, brighter, and it clicks.

“You don’t know.”

“Hm?”

“You don’t know what happened, do you?”

The silence hangs heavy between them, pushing them both deep into the earth until the concrete swallows them whole. Then, “These past six months are pitch black,” hollow, hoarse, whispered into Gadget’s neck where the world can’t see.

And then, “I’m scared.”

It’s this moment shared between them, this confession, that gives Gadget enough confidence to say, “We’ll get through this,” and really, truly mean it for the first time in months.

Dear god, how is he going to explain this to Headquarters?

 


End file.
